


Protect and Destroy

by aftersoon (notboldly)



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Kink Meme, M/M, Matchmaking, Mild Angst, Romance, Scent Marking, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notboldly/pseuds/aftersoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it came down to it, the Hulk had very simple instincts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protect and Destroy

Protect and Destroy

********

Since becoming the Hulk, Bruce had naturally learned to deal with many things that he'd never considered before. The biggest, quite literally, was the Hulk himself, but there were smaller things as well, things like the inevitability of waking up nude in foreign countries with no recollection of how he got there. There were quirks such as developing a strong aversion to certain colors and smells, and habits such as sleeping with one eye open. Bruce adapted to these realities because he had no choice, and even though he didn't enjoy it, he managed. If he had to pick one consequence that he absolutely could not stand, however, it was the inescapable lectures. Since becoming a pariah with no small amount of property damage to his name, everyone who knew of him had developed a theory that they wanted to share with him, a proposed method to control the Hulk. Let it out. Keep it in. Eat more meat, or meditate, or masturbate. The theories varied across a large range of options and—while Bruce appreciated the thought, he really did—each new one brought with it an overwhelming urge to snap from frustration. He understood their concerns, but did they really think he hadn't considered all the options? Nobody understood the Hulk better than Bruce did. Nobody could…and so every "solution" they proposed was wrong. They thought the Hulk was an angry monster, a wounded animal; he wasn't.

The Hulk, when it came down to it, was simply a creature of very straightforward instincts. He was neither an animal nor a man, but he was still predictable enough, even when it didn't seem like it. When he emerged, he had exactly two settings: protect and destroy. The likelihood of either depended on Bruce's mood and the situation, but all the same, Bruce knew that the options were there since almost every change required something very specific. Protect Bruce. Destroy threats. Protect himself. Destroy obstacles. It was very simple, and it was a definite pattern of behavior.

It took almost three months of being an Avenger for Bruce to realize that there might be a bit more to it than that, and when he did, he was almost ashamed of himself for his earlier assumption. Protect and destroy were still the Hulk's defaults, true, but working in a team had expanded them, adding more to what was already a fairly strict course. Protect Bruce. Destroy threats. Protect himself. Destroy obstacles. Protect his _family_. Destroy annoyances. The Hulk had gone from being a loner to developing something like a pack when he was in action, with the pack in question including nearby S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and the Avengers. Well, all except one.

Bruce didn't know whether to be amused or surprised to find that, somehow, Tony was classified as "annoyance" rather than "family."

********

After the fifth time the Hulk had batted Iron Man out of the sky during an otherwise smooth mission, Tony was obviously annoyed, and Bruce felt guilty about both the inconvenience and the injury. It was never more than a bump or bruise because the Hulk never pursued Tony after the initial swat, but it was still definitely something to be sorry for. The latest in a long string of Hulk-related injuries was a black eye this time, and Bruce—never a fan of play violence and certainly not a stranger to black eyes—couldn't help but wince as he pressed an ice pack to Tony's cheek. Tony winced for an entirely different reason, and then he shot Bruce a glare. The expression was mostly for show, but not entirely.

"Seriously, Bruce, I don't even know. He caught me when I was falling out of the sky once, and I have no idea what I've done to piss him off since," Tony replied in answer to Bruce's question about possible causes. It was accompanied by a shrug, semi-playful but tight. His shoulders were likely bruised, Bruce noted, and he prepared another ice pack as he thought carefully about the matter, sighing all the while.

"I don't know either, Tony. Did you change the machinery in the Mark VIII? Sometimes the sounds of certain machines hurt his ears."

Tony shook his head, looking frustrated.

"No, nothing. I've only changed body work lately, I swear—I've been busy." He shot Bruce a smile, wide and wicked. "Well, mostly I've been attempting to design you some indestructible pants so you don't have to walk around in the buff all the time. Feel free to thank me anyway you want, but keep in mind that I accept all major credit cards or sex."

Bruce chuckled, and when Tony draped an arm over his shoulders very slowly but with affection, he uncharacteristically allowed the gesture, even returned it with a light squeeze of his own. Tony flirted with everyone, so he didn't take the comment personally. Much.

"Thanks, Tony. Really, thank you." He sighed again, resisting the urge to fidget as they separated. "And I'm sorry. I hope it won't happen again."

"Yeah, sure." Considering they still didn't know the cause, they both knew the hope was an empty one. "Just…have a talk with him, or something. I'm feeling a bit like the least favorite toy here, because seriously? Big Green actually _helped Steve up_ the other day after taking a swing at me. I'm getting a complex."

"You're complex enough, Tony." It was a terrible joke, but it changed the subject, at least on the surface. Not for Bruce, really, since the Hulk was always on his mind, but the effort was there. And there was something about Tony's comment…something about the Hulk, and instincts, and focusing on Tony, only Tony.

In the back of his mind and underneath their continuing conversation, Bruce started thinking.

********

As soon as Bruce was certain that Tony was patched up as much as necessary, he went to his lab and asked JARVIS for the footage of all the major Avenger battles on record. Some of the video was spotty and some was missing, because obviously cameras couldn't be _everywhere_ , but they still had hours' worth of battles documented, complete with corresponding dates. Bruce wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for, but over the next few days, he reviewed each file for clues anyway, compared each with notes of his and Tony's activities for each day on the off chance that it was specific behavior that was the issue. He was blessed with mostly uninterrupted evenings, hours where his only company was either Tony or various helper machines, and it was pleasant enough underneath the frustration. The Hulk didn't _always_ take a swipe at Iron Man, just usually, and the days when he didn't seemed to follow random events. After a movie night, where Bruce and Tony reluctantly shared a loveseat much to the amusement of everyone except Bruce. After wrestling with Tony for the last slice of pie before being called away. After leaning on each other back to the Tower from the hospital, because not even superheroes were immune to car accidents. After one hurried, drunken, sloppy kiss (Bruce didn't count that, because all things considered both Iron Man and the Hulk had been mostly useless for that battle anyway and Tony never said anything, and Bruce never stared at his lips and wondered—well, it was beside the point.) Each event seemed independent, mostly…except Bruce noticed the pattern and pretended he didn't, because it had to be something else, _had_ to be.

No way had his (silly, stupid, entirely inappropriate) crush gotten so out of hand. There had to be purely platonic reasons for why the Hulk only whacked Iron Man on days when Tony and Bruce didn't touch very much. There had to be reasons unrelated to other, more animal instincts, because Bruce didn't think he could handle a discussion about how the Hulk probably had a mating instinct that aligned neatly with Bruce's own preferences. It would be embarrassing, firstly, and beyond that, he promised himself that the issue was a coincidence, the possible explanation entirely without basis. Entirely.

Still, the hypothesis was there, and Bruce was enough of a scientist and enough of a concerned friend that he had to test it.

********

Even though he acknowledged the inevitability of it, Bruce stalled the actual testing stage as much as he could. To put it off, he continued to research, primarily about why the Hulk never touched any of the other Avengers with violence, how he even seemed protective of them at points. Bruce's fondness for all of them no doubt carried over, and he was forced to come to the conclusion that, rather than as a response to attraction, the Hulk's frustration with Tony stemmed from perceived rejection of the mating process. It was a stretch; it wasn't like Bruce had ever had this come up before, and there was certainly no basis in the animal kingdom that he could find, save one. _Humans_ didn't handle rejection well, and the Hulk, for all that he was his own species and followed mostly simple instincts, often reacted to Bruce's human feelings.

But while it was true that Bruce did feel rejected by Tony sometimes, he hadn't thought it was important; Tony certainly wasn't going to change his habits for Bruce's peace of mind, and there was unlikely to be a love confession in the near future, something he had been resigned to from the beginning. In the great scheme of things it really wasn't all that significant, but the Hulk obviously thought it was, at least enough to make his displeasure known. It was…problematic, but assuming all of the previous conclusions were accurate at least in part, Bruce figured he had a way to trick the Hulk into being a little more friendly where Tony was concerned. The test went against _his_ instincts, but Bruce figured he could manage, especially since Tony's health was at stake.

The next time Tony gave him a reflexive hug of congratulations, Bruce didn't stiffen awkwardly, body poised to pull away. Instead, he returned the gesture, making the one-armed and friendly clasp a bit more lingering, pulling him a little bit closer. Tony shot him a curious look, and Bruce thought he was going to be questioned…but then Tony just smiled and kept his arm where it was. His expression said _about time_ , and Bruce felt a little guilty about that too.

Still, it made Tony happy, it made Bruce feel warm, and—most important of all—it made sure they were pressed close together for a significant moment. The Hulk had an excellent sense of smell, and Bruce had no doubt he would smell Bruce on Tony, enough that the meaning in his mind would be clear. Marked. Claimed.

Bruce hoped Tony didn't notice him blushing, but that was probably too much to hope for. In any case, nothing exploded and nobody died, which meant that Bruce considered it a relative success for the moment. He would have to be certain that he repeated the touch often enough for it to actually be relevant once the Hulk was called out, but that wasn't a hardship. Even as just friends, Bruce enjoyed being close to Tony, enjoyed returning his affectionate and almost clingy touches. He had just never dared to do so before, for many reasons.

In light of new concerns, Bruce allowed himself this one weakness.

********

Since most occasions and even most battles didn't require the presence of the Hulk, it was almost a week before Bruce had a chance to fully realize the effects of his applied hypothesis. Since he would obviously be unable to watch the results himself, he made sure that JARVIS was monitoring them as closely as possible while they fought the attack on Washington, D.C., and about all he hoped for was indifference on the Hulk's part, perhaps a little less destruction.

When he woke up, he was naked on the front lawn of the White House with Iron Man standing over him. Bruce blinked a few times and made a move to cover himself, extremely grateful when a pair of pants was tossed in his direction and he was able to pull them on with his dignity intact. He was more than a little confused, however, when the faceplate of the Mark VIII flicked up, revealing a mile-wide grin on Tony's face.

"Tony?"

"He _hugged me_ , Bruce," was Tony's response, and it was enough of an explanation. "I don't know what you said to him, but thanks. I think Clint was jealous, too."

Bruce laughed, because the idea of anyone being _jealous_ of an embrace that could easily crush bones was absurd. Considering it was Tony and Clint, however, the statement was also likely to be true.

"I'll tell him." Whatever that meant—Bruce and the other guy weren't often on speaking terms, but at least one thing was clear: the Hulk definitely approved of Bruce's strategy. Bruce wasn't entirely sure this was a good thing, but he was grateful enough.

When Tony extended one metal hand, Bruce accepted the pull to his feet…and if his grip lingered, it was only because he was being thorough, and because it was _working_.

********

It couldn't work forever, but although Bruce knew this intellectually, he had a hard time coming up with an alternative for two reasons. For one, it did work, spectacularly and without fail for weeks. The Hulk wasn't always overtly friendly, of course, and Bruce was never surprised when he saw the footage of the team working without hitch and the Hulk more or less ignoring Iron Man. Then again, he also wasn't surprised when the Hulk seemed to follow Iron Man like a puppy, or hug him in a way that was almost heartbreakingly gentle because the Hulk _could_ be gentle, even though the statement seemed odd. Watching the footage, Bruce was always truly grateful that he didn't remember much when he was the Hulk; heaven only knew what went through his mind, but he suspected it wasn't what anyone expected, and he didn't really think that was something he should intrude on. The Hulk was comparatively mellow these days, something close to happy, and that was enough…except, of course, Bruce knew it was temporary.

The second reason a permanent solution didn't come to mind immediately was somewhat unexpected and—he was obliged to point out—not entirely selfish. Initially, Bruce had become more tactile to appease the Hulk, to decrease bitter feelings and insecurities about the other guy's place on the team and (more specifically) at Tony's side. They might have had a root in Bruce's own complicated and unwanted feelings, but the problem was really all the Hulk. The problem, even now, was _always_ the Hulk…and even if Bruce enjoyed the touches, enjoyed knowing that he was allowed to be affectionate with someone who meant more than the world to him, it was never about him. Not really.

It would have been easy to stop with this in mind, except Tony wouldn't _let_ him stop. Bruce tried—a subtle lessening of contact, an experiment, or so he thought—but the first time he tried to pull away mid-embrace, Tony looked at him oddly, grabbed his arms, and repositioned them appropriately. It made Bruce's heart ache, because Tony couldn't have known _what_ he was doing, or what it meant to his _friend_ who overanalyzed everything for signs that his feelings were requited. He couldn't have known…but he was Tony, and that meant that he didn't see the problem with being affectionate once Bruce had encouraged it even once. And he liked Bruce. Everyone knew that.

And when Bruce remained stiff and unhappy, so unhappy, Tony pulled him closer, squeezed him tighter, kept the warm weight of his arms around Bruce’s back and hot palms against his shoulder blades.

"Hey, whatever's wrong, it's okay. You don't have to go all weird on me."

Bruce returned the embrace, because what could he do? What had started out as a solution was rapidly becoming a problem, but it still worked wonders for the Hulk's mood, and it still made Bruce warm when he allowed himself to enjoy it. It was just a medication; it had side effects, but they were far better than the alternative. If it hurt a little, Bruce could handle it, because he was used to worse. Bruce had long since resolved himself to having his heart broken, and he was okay with that.

The Hulk, however, had very simple instincts.

********

Bruce wasn't too surprised when he woke up naked and in a pile of rubble, but he was surprised to find that he was alone. Since joining the Avengers seven months ago, he had never had a transformation where someone wasn't waiting for him when he came back to consciousness, most often Clint or Tony because they were simply better at finding him. To him, the lack of an Avenger was odd…but upon a closer look at his surroundings and the realization that there was nobody at all, he felt even stranger. They had been in New York City, one of the rare battles where they had been at their home base. Bruce remembered it clearly…and that didn't explain why he was currently sitting in a barn in the middle of green nowhere. Or why, when he stumbled to his feet, he looked around for a sign, any sign of where he was, and found only one. According to a cheerful white board, he was outside of Stowe, Vermont. His knowledge of geography might not have been great, but he knew it was miles from where he had changed. Miles and miles.

The Hulk, for whatever reason, had _ran_ , and that could only be a bad thing. There weren't many threats that could make him run rather than charge, after all, and Bruce's mind conjured up possibilities, each worse than the last. General Ross had found them. The Avengers had been defeated. Something had injured the Hulk badly enough to scare him. Something had called him away, somehow trumping Bruce's innate need to help. Mind control. Drugs. The military.

None of this, however, explained why he was alone, and that knowledge was the only thing that kept him from panicking. Well, that and the tracking bracelet he wore, one of Tony's best creations that was still blinking sluggishly at him, a faint blue light. If there was anyone alive to find him, they would. So he waited.

The Quinjet arrived in less than an hour to land on the shallow dirt road, followed by a familiar red and gold suit that landed in front of him with an audible crunch of gravel. Iron Man tossed clothes his way and Bruce pulled them on, watching with relief as the remaining members of the Avengers spilled off the plane— _all_ of them. Tony didn't say anything immediately, and before he spoke, his face plate was flicked up.

The look of relief on his face shook Bruce, because Tony had been _worried_ about him. Visibly so.

"Dude. We're going to have to talk about the right way to perform heroics, okay?"

Bruce didn't know what he was talking about, but when he struggled to stand, a firm metal arm came to rest around his waist, supporting him. His legs were wobbly, and he stumbled. Tony caught him, but by the looks on the faces around him, if he hadn't, _someone_ would have.

It was a strange feeling, but he didn't ask. He was too tired.

As soon as he sat on the Quinjet, he was out again.

********

Bruce thought it would be easiest to get the story from JARVIS, and when he woke, safely wrapped in blankets and surprisingly wearing pajamas, that was the first thing he did. The video was grainy and poor, but it was clear enough that Bruce understood what Tony meant by heroics, and why they were concerned.

In reflection, it probably surprised Bruce more than anyone.

The Hulk had saved them. All of them. It had been a bomb or something similar; the invasion had been a distraction, a way to sneak explosives past Earth's defenders. It hadn't worked, but the technology was complex enough that disarming it proved to be impossible in the time that remained after discovery. It was clear that Tony tried, Natasha too…but it hadn't mattered, and the seconds had ticked down.

When there was less than a minute to go, the Hulk had pushed them out of the way and laid on it, and stayed. And stayed. Between Steve, Tony, and Thor, they'd tried to move him, but the Hulk had batted them away. He probably should apologize to Steve; that particular swat looked painful, if effective, and he hadn't meant it to. Whatever was necessary, the Hulk hadn't meant to hurt any of them.

After the explosion went off (minimal damage, barely a crater, the Hulk not even moving except to sink lower into the ground), the Hulk—seemingly uninjured—ran away. It was puzzling behavior, and Bruce tried to remember _why_ that had happened the few times it had. The Hulk didn't run off and lick his wounds; he barely ever had wounds. And, in Bruce's experience, a bomb was hardly enough to spook him. Bruce assumed it was just something of his normal pattern: protect the team, destroy threats. Protect Bruce…and there it was.

Bruce might not have remembered much when he was the Hulk, but the Hulk apparently didn't have that problem. And he was also apparently smarter than he appeared, but Bruce had known that. Of course he had.

The Hulk had once protected him from radiation, from the military, from S.H.I.E.L.D. Was it so impossible to think that the Hulk would try to protect him from a broken heart?

Bruce wasn't sure what to think, but as ineffective as the effort had been, he appreciated it.

********

Tony had never left well enough alone, and that meant that as almost as soon as Bruce rejoined the world of the conscious, he was _there_. He came bearing an omelet, which was weird, but Bruce accepted it. He was starving, and so he even managed to choke down whatever sort of food it was classified as, if food was even the right category. Definitely a Tony creation: cooking had never been his strong suit.

Tony just watched him quietly, and when he was finished, he took the plate back and set it aside.

"You know, I've only ever made omelets for two people. You're the first to eat it, and in bed too! Feel privileged."

Bruce smiled gamely. "I do." The Hulk also protected from food poisoning, as it happened. "What's the occasion?"

Tony bit his bottom lip, rolling it between his teeth. Bruce waited, expecting anything from congratulations on not being dead to an announcement that the long-awaited indestructible pants were actually complete.

What he got was an armful of Tony and the single tightest embrace he could remember. It hurt his sore muscles, but not enough that he pulled away; Bruce didn't think he could pull away, either physically or emotionally. Although Tony eventually did and Bruce let him go, it was more of a reflex. Don't squeeze too hard, only as much as necessary. Don't linger. Only friends.

"I found your notes, you know." That…was not what Bruce was expecting, or the reaction he would have expected to follow the statement. His head hurt as he tried to process it, in fact, and Tony just watched him with a serious expression.

"Um…which notes?" It was not a particularly subtle delay tactic, but it was an out, an option to ignore it if Tony had changed his mind. He hadn't. He looked perturbed at Bruce's attempt to do so, too, even crossing his arms as he continued to stare.

"The ones where the Hulk's apparently all about my body. You know. Those."

"Ah." Tony waited, and Bruce tried to give him what he wanted to hear. "I'm sorry?"

Tony laughed. It startled them both.

"Right. Right, of course you are." He shook his head, looking amused and thoughtful both. "Well, now that that's out of the way, why didn't you share this information with me? We could have been finding a solution together. Not that I don't approve of yours, by the way, but it would have been so much easier with two heads, you know? Definitely quicker. We can even work on it now!"

Bruce looked away, swallowing as he did. The omelet felt like it was going to come back up, because Tony was proposing that they _deal_ with this _problem_.

"It's personal." Which was possibly the stupidest thing he could have said, because Tony went from viewing it as only a scientific curiosity to seeing it as something truly interesting in a second flat.

"Personal how?" Bruce didn't explain, and Tony prodded, with a questioning voice instead of a sharp stick this time. "Bruce?"

"It's…not him. Not entirely." Bruce looked up and he cleared his throat, tried again. "He mostly just reacts." Tony would follow that to its inevitable conclusion, and he thought the silence was his answer. He looked down at his hands.

It hurt, but it was expected, and at least it was out in the open. Tony might even be cruel in his rejection, but after that, they could get over it. Eventually.

"Is this why you ran away? Because you have crush on me?" There was an exasperated huff of breath, followed by the sound of shifting. "Christ, Bruce—we thought you were hurt, or that it was something serious. Thank God." Bruce flinched, and there was a pause, then a groan. "Damn, but that didn't come out right _at all_. That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

A warm hand covered his own where they rested in his lap, and then _squeezed._

"I mean, 'get over here and kiss me, you idiot.'” Bruce must have looked completely bemused, because Tony’s voice stayed warm, not mocking or challenging at all.“If I'd known you were waiting for an invitation, I would have issued one _months_ ago."

Bruce's eyes snapped up, and he saw Tony looking at him without any pretense, and with fondness. Exasperated fondness, but fondness all the same.

"Really?"

"Seriously. Gold-lettering and everything." He sounded completely serious, and Bruce didn't understand.

"But…why?"

"Because I have a crush on you too." Tony smiled, a familiar sharp smile that he only wore when he wanted to seem more confident than he was. "Sounds cute, doesn't it? Now imagine admitting that to your friend who doesn't even look at you most of the time, and whose green alter ego likes to knock you out of the sky. Not great odds." Tony looked down, back towards their still-joined hands. "I'm not subtle, Bruce. I thought you were turning me down with all the gentleness of a brick. And I mean that literally—sometimes there were brick walls involved."

"I wasn't." Bruce wondered how he had missed this, but he knew, realistically, that sometimes reality blurred when he looked at Tony. "Can I…" He trailed off, meaning 'kiss' and 'love' and a million other things. Tony beat him to it.

This kiss was warm and soft, tender and perfect. It must have been significantly better than their first, but Bruce didn't really care.

All that mattered was that it was followed by many, many more.

********

End

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a kink meme prompt, located here: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/5102.html?thread=5242094#t5242094
> 
> It also fulfills the prompt of "hugs" in my Avengers tables.


End file.
